


Bad Hair Day

by 8_Navy_Roses



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Crimes committed against Elliott's hair, F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Mute Player (Stardew Valley), Oneshot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8_Navy_Roses/pseuds/8_Navy_Roses
Summary: Snow days, and mounting frustration over a particularly nasty bit of writer's block leads to Elliott making a rather unfortunate decision to his hair...
Relationships: Elliott (Stardew Valley)/Original Character(s), Elliott/Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Bad Hair Day

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this line of Elliott's winter dialogue "I have to brush my hair daily, or else it'll clump up into messy knots. It's a lot of work. I'm surprised I haven't just shaved it off in a fit of passion. I suppose I am too vain." and my own frustration over how easily my long hair has been knotting up this winter.

To say Elliott was having a bad day was a  _ bit  _ of an understatement. 

He awoke to yet another snowy winter day, the third day in a row. Normally, the writer wouldn’t mind spending this much time within his cabin, as he would dedicate that time to working on his novel. 

However, it seemed that whatever he wrote was not coming out right. Phrases had been crossed out and rewritten time and time again, each time seemingly becoming more and more stale or overwritten with each passing pen stroke. 

The past two days had been much of the same, and quite frankly, Elliott was finding it to be infuriating. At this point, he would normally retire from his work, by either taking a walk along the beach shore or a trip to the library, to pursue others literary works, so he would forget thinking about his own. 

But with this seemingly endless snow piling up outside… 

Elliott rose up from his desk, pushing his hair away from his face. Walking to his window, Elliott scowled at the snow furiously swirling about outside. He certainly wasn’t going to tromp through the wet snow for the sake of clearing his head. If he would achieve anything with that, it would only be an illness and frostbitten toes. 

Returning to his desk, Elliott picked up his glossy green duck feather pen, replenished the ink, grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and hunched himself once more over his desk, brushing his hair back once again. His pen hovered over the blank page. 

He sat there for what seemed like ages, words and sentences circling around and around and around in his head, none of which sounded good enough to put on paper. 

A drop of ink swelled at the tip of the pen, then ever so slowly, dripped onto the paper to make a tiny splat of ink on the paper. At the same moment, Elliott’s long tresses fell in front of his face once again. 

Throwing his pen down, Elliott decided he had to do something with his hair. Partly so it would cease with it getting in the way, and partly in hopes that perhaps brushing out his hair would bring the peace of mind he needed to get past this infernal writer’s block. 

With the weather, Elliott’s hair had been proving to be more difficult of late, easily tangling no matter what treatments he used. It was rather embarrassing to admit, but Elliott had been, well, neglecting his hair of late, due to how frustrating it was being to brush out. 

Settling down in front of his vanity, Elliott picked up his brush, and began picking at the tangle of knots. 

It was proving to be slow going, and instead of the calming activity he was hoping for, Elliott found himself growing more and more agitated. 

It seemed like while he would get one knot untangled, another five would result. Some time had already past, and Elliott had only achieved a small tiny section of knot free hair. 

Elliott heaved a sigh. His arm and head were already sore, and he was tempted to simply give up. However, he didn’t want to return to staring at blank pages, so he simply picked back up his brush to go over the knots once more. 

At that moment, it seemed like the fates decided Elliott’s day would only become worse. 

Elliott’s brush had snagged on a particularly nasty mat of knots. He attempted to free his brush but only somehow managed to get it more snagged in his hair. He tugged at it more firmly.

There was a quiet, small sounding  _ snap _ and Elliott blinked down at the handle of his brush held within his hand. It took him a few moments to realize that his favorite brush had broken in his grasp. 

Elliott reached up a hand and delicately touched at the actual brush part. Almost as if to mock him, the bristles freed themselves from his knotted hair and Elliott held the two pieces of his brush in each hand. 

He sat there, completely still and silent. An uncharacteristic rage overtook his graceful form. 

Elliott chucked the pieces of his brush at the wall next to his bed with a fearsome shout. Shoving himself away from his vanity, the writer returned to his writing desk, beginning to search through the drawers. He found what he was looking for and returned to his vanity with his prize in hand. Sitting down, a pair of silver scissors gleamed in his hand. 

If brushing wasn’t going to solve his knotty problem, then Elliott would solve it another way. So without hesitation, Elliott raised up the scissors and closed them down on the lock of hair he held out. The scissors continued to open and close. His eyes were almost wild with his fit of frustrated passion, seemingly not focused on his actions. 

A loud crack of thunder brought Elliott back to himself. He blinked once, twice, three times at himself in the mirror, his scissors still raised up to his hair. 

From his shop, Willy could have sworn he heard a high pitched scream echoing from the outside. Dismissing it as the wind, the fisherman returned to sorting out his various baits and tackle. 

Elliott dropped the scissors to the vanity, gripping the sides of his mirror to stare at the mess he created. 

His once beautiful long locks of strawberry blonde hair was now barely brushing his shoulders, jagged and uneven. Elliott felt like he was going to be sick. He looked like a raving loon! He would never be able to show his face in town again with his poor hair looking like this! 

The poor man had begun to tremble, cursing himself for what he had done to himself. Elliott collapsed into his chair, unable to tear his gaze away from his ruined hair. 

The sound of a basket clattering to the ground alerted Elliott to the fact that he had a visitor. He turned to find farmer Ceilan, his beloved girlfriend, standing in the doorway with a look of shock and worry on her face. At her feet laid an overturned basket, freshly picked pomegranates from her greenhouse scattered across the floor.

“Horrible looking, isn’t it?” Elliott simply stated, before throwing himself over top his vanity and trying his best to cover up his head. “Simply dreadful.” He wished nothing more than the wood to suddenly open up and swallow him, save him from the embarrassment of explaining his precious hair's plight.

Ceilan made her way over to Elliott, hurriedly taking off her snow covered wool cloak. She tapped at his shoulder gently. When he didn’t move, she began to gently shake him, her concerned frown only deepening. When that roused no response, Ceilan placed her hands on Elliott’s head, gingerly moving to make him look at her. Once his creastfallen gaze was firmly on her, she began to move her hands. 

“What happened, Elliott?” She signed out, her hands frantically moving in her haste to learn what caused him to be in such a state. “Are you okay?” 

“I.. seemed to let my emotions get the best of me.” Elliott said, grimacing. A ball of shame was beginning to grow in the pit of his stomach as he realized how childist his actions had become. “The past few days, my writing has proven to be more of a struggle than normal. Nothing was sounding right in my head or on paper. With this  _ infernal snow _ , I was unable to use my normal methods of clearing my head when such problems arise.” 

“So after another day of fruitlessly staring at empty pages, I had hoped taking some time to maintain my hair would provide a way of... not thinking a while.” Elliott shook his head, not liking the fact that he didn’t feel his hair swishing against his back. “That proved to be the wrong choice. My hair seemed to be determined to be particularly insolent with the weather and not long after I started… I managed to break my brush. Frustration quickly came to a boil and well… This was the result.” 

Elliott glared at himself with disgust and he had to fight the urge to rise up from his chair and throw himself across his bed like a wilting damsel. If Ceilan didn’t respond well, he still very much might do so. 

Ceilan slowly signed out Elliott’s name, her expression became more sad. She raised up her hands to cup his chin with her hands, once again making him look away from the mirror and at her. She rubbed her thumb along his cheek, placing a kiss against his forehead. 

Elliott seemed to have found himself overcome with emotion and he leaned forward to bury himself within his girlfriend’s front, trying to hide the tears pricking at the sides of his eyes. 

Ceilan simply wrapped her arms around him, holding him close to her. She rocked the two of them back and forth, doing her best to silently comfort her boyfriend.

For a brief moment, Elliott was seized with the feelings of jealousy over his girlfriend’s brunette locks as they tumbled around him.

“It seems I now must become even more of a hermit than I already was. I will certainly not be going outside when my hair is in such a state as this.” Elliott firmly stated, his voice a bit muffled from still having his face pressed into Ceilan. 

She rolled her eyes, but tapped his head. When Elliott was looking at her once more, Ceilan pointed to the scissors, then to Elliott, before signing, “May I…?” 

It took Elliott a few moments to realize what she was asking. A flash of uncertainty flickered across his face. “If you would want to… I guess you can’t make any more of a mess than I had.” 

Ceilan beamed, before motioning for Elliott to spin his chair so he was facing away from the mirror. Digging out a towel and an old comb, she brushed off the strands of hair from Elliott’s shoulder and then wrapped the towel to protect his clothing from any further mess. Finally, she picked up the scissors, beginning to study Elliott’s hair with a determined look. 

After what felt like ages to Elliott, he began hearing the snip of the scissors once more. Using an old comb that Elliott had forgotten was in his vanity, Ceilan eased out the final bit of knots that still remained before starting to even his locks. 

Elliott occasionally attempted to turn and see what Ceilan was doing to his hair. However, she would grip his head firmly between her hands and keep him looking the complete opposite direction from his mirror. 

Ceilan kept snipping at his hair for so long, Elliott was afraid that by the time she would be finished, he would have nothing left of his hair. 

Yet, after what seemed like ages, Elliott heard the scissors being placed down again. Ceilan moved to be standing in front of him. 

“Okay, you can look now.” Ceilan signed, giving a soft smile. 

Nerves hitting him with full force, Elliott slowly raised himself up from his chair and turned to face the mirror, removing the towel around his shoulders. 

Elliott blinked once, twice, three times at himself. Behind him, Ceilan watched with anxious eyes. 

“By Yabo… Ceilan…” Elliott mumerued, and Ceilan’s face began to fall in disappointment, afraid that she did make things worse. “You did a wonderful job.” 

There was no getting back his normal length, Elliott knew that for sure. However, his hair was much more even now rather than the jagged mess from before. Hair still parted on one side, his hair fell in short tousled waves, just barely falling past his ears. If one ignored the shortness of his hair, he looked like he was back to his normal self. 

He turned to face Ceilan. “Truly, I don’t know how to thank you!” He stated, excitement beginning to rise in his voice. “How did you become such a good hand at hairstyling?” 

Ceilan gave a sheepish grin, before raising up her left forearm. She formed the letter ‘v’ with her right hand and moved it along her left forearm, opening and closing her fingers, making a cutting motion. 

“Your sheep?” Elliott said in an incredulous tone. “From shearing your sheep, you were able to translate that to my hair.” He shook his head. It still felt weird, but he did have to admit that his head did feel much lighter. As did his heart, after the soothing comfort from Ceilan. “Well, I am incredibly thankful for it. I do wish there was a way to repay you.” 

_ “ _ Have dinner with me on the farm tonight!” Ceilan signed rather quickly, eyes turning a bit hopeful. “I was going to suggest it anyway. I already have preparations for crab cake?” She gave a bit a wolfish grin, knowing full well she was blatantly bribing Elliott with the promise of his favorite dish.

Elliott’s stomach grumbled, reminding him that while he had neglected to eat anything since breakfast that morning. “That sounds like a splendid idea. Please, allow me to first clean up here and then we can soon return to your farm.” 

Ceilan nodded, before going for the long forgotten pomegranates. Elliott retrieved a broom and after a moment of staring, he began sweeping up the auburn locks littering the floor with a soft sigh. 

Once his cabin was back in order, Elliott and Ceilan soon headed out, leaving the basket of pomegranates behind on the kitchen counter. To both of their surprise, the sun was finally shining, the freshly fallen snow sparkling in the light. 

“Well, at least we both need not worry about crowding under your hood.” Elliott says, looking down upon Ceilan, with a soft chuckle. She simply smiles in return, placing a chaste kiss on his lips and taking his arm in hers, beginning to lead him back to her farm. 

In some ways, Elliott wondered if Ceilan was purposely leading him the longest route through town. It was a friday night, and everyone was quickly making their way to the Saloon now that the snow had ceased. There were a few shocked expressions, but the couple didn’t stop to explain. Elliott had a feeling that he would have to explain himself the next time he was in the saloon. This was… quite the difference for him. 

Finally, the duo made it to Ceilan's cabin. Elliott had heard, from both the farmer herself and the gossiping residents of Stardew, that Ceilan had hired Robin to add on to the one room cabin over the winter season. 

When Elliott asked Ceilan about it, she said she finally wanted her own kitchen to make food. She was rather tired of only being able to make snack bars, and while Gus's food was delicious, it was getting expensive. 

However, according to the other residents, it was because Ceilan was ready to settle down with a certain author (with not at all subtle looks being given to Elliot), as Robin included a bigger bed frame free of charge for Ceilan. 

Elliott ignored those comments. For the most part. The romantic in him couldn't help but hold his breath every time Ceilan presented a gift to him, wondering if a certain blue pendant was going to be in her hands. The fantasy only grew stronger when Elliott could have sworn that during the final thunderstorm in the fall, he saw Ceilan dashing across the beach toward the tide pools.

And when Elliott stepped into the cabin, the set up didn't do much to dispel the fantasies. 

Ceilan excused herself, signing that she would only be a moment freshening herself up in the other room. Elliott took that time to take in the scene before him. 

Her table was covered in a deep blue tablecloth, a single lit candlestick and single red rose in the middle of it. The table was set, two plates side by side, a finely aged bottle of pomegranate wine waiting to be poured. Not many lights were on, the fireplace crackling merrily in the living room area. 

It seemed Cielan had put quite a bit of thought into tonight’s dinner.

Elliott swallowed, heart thumping a little more quickly. He didn't know what to expect, but it certainly seemed like Ceilan was taking a page out of classic proposal scenes.

But no! He wouldn't get his hopes up. Elliott certainly had enough emotional twists and turns for the day. He wouldn't let his heart get away from himself that quickly. 

Ceilan's soft footsteps announced her arrival. Elliott turned and internally cursed, heart beginning to race even more with awe for her. 

Changing out of her long sleeve blue shirt and grey overalls, Ceilan was now wearing an off the shoulder shimmery blue blouse, with a silver wrap around skirt tied at her waist, and a pair of black flats on her feet. A soft dusting of makeup had been applied, and her hair, normally loose and wavy, had been pulled back in a half up, half down style, fancy pins adorning the braids running alongside her head. 

Elliott was upon her in a second, taking one of Ceilan's hands and placing a tender, lingering kiss upon it, never breaking his gaze from her's. "You look truly and utterly divine, my dear." 

Ceilan blushed, gripping Elliott's hand tight, and bringing it up for her own kiss upon his hand, before gently letting go to sign "Let's start on dinner."

Hours later, dirty dishware was in the sink, most of the bottle had been drunk, and Elliott found himself curled up with Ceilan on her couch, drinking in the warmth from the fireplace. She was reclined against one end, his head resting against her chest. She was running her hands through his hair, listening intently as Elliott explained his recent writer’s block.

This evening was just what he needed, after the rather interesting day. He gave a contented hum, practically purring under Ceilan’s ministrations. She gave a soft giggle, eyes filled with happiness. 

Elliott felt Ceilan take a deep breath, letting it out in a rush. His heart gave a sudden flutter of anticipation. Was she preparing for something? 

Being gently pushed forward, Elliott was forced to sit up. They faced each other on the couch, a nervous energy entering the air. Elliott itched to take Ceilan’s hands, but refrained, knowing she apparently had things to say. 

“Elliott. These past couple years have been some of the craziest and busiest of my life.” Ceilan began. “When I left everything behind to start anew here, I had no idea if I was making the worst mistake of my life, or the best decision. But for all the peace and serenity this farm has brought me, I still felt… something was missing.” Ceilan gave a knowing look to Elliott. “ _ Someone _ was missing.” 

“Piece by piece, each time I saw you, that part has been slowly filled within me. With every drink shared, listening to the words you wrote, every touch and kiss shared, more fell into place.” 

Elliott watched Ceilan intently. Her hands were shaking, and a touch of anxiety was found within her eyes. He found himself trembling in return, heart beginning to race as Ceilan continued to sign her speech. 

“But, while all the missing pieces have fallen into place, they’re not quite there. And I think it’s finally time to place where they properly belong on this farm.” Ceilan paused a moment, bringing out a thin black velvet box. She laid it in her lap.

Elliott felt his breath leave him. 

“Elliott, will you marry me?” Ceilan signed, hands trembling even more as she finished the sentence, picking up the box and swiftly opening it to reveal the mermaid’s pendant. 

A rush of emotions bolted through Elliott all at once. Confusion, shock, understanding, and then overwhelming happiness. 

Tears once again found their way to Elliott’s eyes. “ _ I accept,  _ Yabo, Ceilan, I accept!” His body was trembling, but his voice was steady. 

He reached for Ceilan, sliding one hand behind her head, tangling it in her hair. He brought her closer to him, placing a long, lingering kiss upon her lips. Ceilan eagerly accepted the kiss. They both ignored the awkward feeling of the mermaid pendant box being squished between their bodies. 

Elliott was the first to break the kiss, mind already racing with thoughts. “Obviously, I’ll take care of everything! I’ll have to talk to some of the other residents, of course, make sure I get everything set up properly for us. Oh, gods, I really only have three days-” 

His rambling was cut off by another kiss from Ceilan. She leaned back once she was certain Elliott would be quiet. “Enjoy the moment darling.” Her eyes were bemused. “Planning can come tomorrow.” She twirled one finger in the air, telling Elliott to lower his head toward her, lifting the mermaid pendant up with her other hand. 

A flutter of happiness erupted in his chest, and Elliott quickly complied. He found himself uncontrollably beaming as he watched Ceilan gently lower the pendant around him, settling it on his chest. A tender and giddy look was given to each other, breathless joy as they leaned forward to kiss each other tenderly. 

When Elliott broke the kiss, he went to pull out his hair from under the mermaid pendant’s chain. He paused as he realized that the metal was already resting against his neck. Things clicked into place, and Elliott gave a soft chuckle in amusement. 

“You know, I never imagined myself getting married with short hair.”  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> .... How did I go from Elliott dramatically cutting off his hair and needing comfort to a fluffy proposal?
> 
> Regardless, hope y'all enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this fluffy little oneshot. Elliott is wonderful, and I love my dramatic author husband. 
> 
> ~Roses


End file.
